Life, Love, and After Death's Done Its Part
by mermaidpotato
Summary: Oneshot collection-A challenge of sorts. Romance is a strange thing, and it comes to different people in different ways. Pairings; the good, the bad, and the crack. Rated T just in case. Please take the time to read the first A/N.
1. Payback

A/N: This is an idea taken from Kittyclaw (with her permission, of course; she's lovely, she really is). If you want, check out her story A Story of Love: 100 tales of cuddles and fluff (it's for Code Lyoko, and I think she abandoned it at around 50, but it's still got some great little stories in it).

It's a... challenge of sorts. I'm not aiming for 100 specifically, though I have well over that many pairings to choose from. Here's the basis: Within a single fandom (I, of course, plan on playing with Danny Phantom), try to write fluffy little oneshots for as many pairings as you can. Why? Well, Kittyclaw says it best, I think:

_This may seem like a monumental (or maybe just insane) task that I'm giving myself, but I do have my reasons. I've always thought that a writer that writes romance can never reach their full writing potential if they stick strictly to their one favorite pairing. Different pairings have different relationships, and therefore would each be written in a different way. If you stick to one pairing you only get to see one of the multitudes of sides to the complexities that make up relationships. And so I believe that the more variety you give to your pairings, the more relationship dynamics you can explore; which means a more rounded romance author. And so in this endeavor I hope to do that for myself._

One thing I would like to point out, if you've read her work, is that while Kittyclaw dabbled in slash pairings, I'm going to stay away from them. I just don't feel comfortable with it, and if you want to call me a hater, then that's fine. I honestly don't care what you think.

Anyways, a lot of the pairings will be strange, and some of them will be utter crack. But that's the fun of it. So please, don't just skip around to the pairings you like. If you really don't want to read a couple, then you don't have to. Not all of them will be perfect, and most of them probably won't even have a kiss because, in my mind, it's more about the minutia of the interaction.

Sorry about the author's note, but... yeah, enjoy. For no particular reason, I'm starting with PhantomxValerie.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Playing with them for a while, might put the pieces back eventually. It's not like they're using them.

* * *

He capped the thermos, giving an excited whoop as it closed, spinning in midair in his strange celebration. Valerie Grey didn't know what was going on inside his head, and she didn't care. She hunted ghosts, this one especially, and he was currently in her crosshairs. To her, the reasons that put him there didn't really matter. All she knew was that her vengeance was finally about to be complete, after all this time spent hunting him down.

The snow-haired ghost caught her eye through the crosshairs of her blaster, and motioned for her to halt. She didn't care in the slightest. Hand tensing to fire the final shot, she shouted in wordless frustration when he disappeared. Ready to throw a tantrum worthy of a five year old spoiled absolutely rotten, she hefted the massive ectogun and shot a round into the empty sky above her.

Phantom had captured another ghost to turn into a pet or something, whatever it was he did with them, and it was off the streets for now, but it made no difference. They would be back, and so would he. He continued to not live another day, as he would until she finally managed to take him out.

Waiting a few minutes and turning her board around in circles like a mobile hung high above the city, she eventually compressed the massive weapon into a manageable size and shoved it back where it belonged. "Stupid ghost…"

"Sorry," an eerie voice suddenly echoed from right behind her. She spun, her four faithful cubes locking on and awaiting her press of the button inside her glove for firing. It was the ghost boy, and he'd snuck up behind her. Not a very smart move, however, because he was now right back in her clutches. To her surprise, he didn't make any move to attack, just put one hand up in surrender, keeping the other behind his back. Who did he think he was fooling? "Hold on a sec. I just wanted to give you a little something… figured that you've been mad at me for long enough. This feud is pointless, really. We're on the same side; you're just too mad at me to realize it."

She was about to open her mouth to correct him; about to give the last snatch of witty banter he would ever hear, when he pulled his hand from behind his back. "Here," he said, holding the item in his hand delicately out to her.

Oddly enough, it wasn't vaguely threatening. He had presented her with a red rose, and she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Cautious but too curious for her own good, she reached for the rose, ready to give the signal to fire any second with her other hand.

For some inexplicable reason, she was deeply engrossed by the small red flower and what it represented. The second her fingers were pinched around the long stem, her black-and-white ghostly nemesis was gone, but she only barely noticed. "It's beautiful…" she whispered, half convinced that there was a spell on it to rob her of her free will. Something did seem off about it…

Wait a second, what was that white corner poking out of the petals? Extracting it carefully, still about a hundred feet above Amity park, she found a carefully folded paper pack. The visor on her helmet slid back to allow her a better view. Unfolding it quickly but delicately, she found three papers in the little secret surprise.

Her entire mind went blank when she registered what the first was. A generic check, in her name, signed with Phantom's stylized DP and with Two Hundred Thousand Dollars neatly printed as the amount. Sure that it had to be a ruse, she almost didn't want to look at the second piece of paper. It was… a letter of recommendation, she figured out, scanning it, from one of the companies her dad had worked for a long time ago, before the end of her world, who apparently still praised his old security system. It wasn't much, but it just might be enough to get them started, if the contacts with it were valid.

The third was extremely ratty compared to the other two, an old and worn sheet of notebook paper that looked as if it had been folded more than a few times. "Dear Valerie," it read, "Can we maybe just bury the hatchet? I'm sorry about the whole thing with the dog, okay? I was only just getting used to my powers back then; I didn't mean the collateral damage. Neither did Cujo, but he's just a dog (note that I didn't say my dog, just a dog). He still doesn't know any better. I hope this can at least start to make up for what I did to you, because I think you'd be a pretty cool person to be around if you weren't trying to kill me. I always did have a thing for getting hurt, anyways. So… maybe, if this will help you forgive me, we can fight on the same side sometime? It'd be a lot easier to save your life if you weren't after mine. Hopeful, Phantom."

Valerie was surprised enough by the gesture itself, but she was speechless when the check went through. Even more so when the letter checked out as completely legitimate. A few weeks later, they were out of the apartment and into a decent-sized house again. Things were starting to look up, but one thing continued to haunt Valerie.

Was it weird that the first personal touch she put in her new room was a half-wilted rose from a ghost?


	2. Phase

Sam knew from the beginning that it was just a fad; a phase. He had eventually gotten over Valerie's rejection, and time had even gone so far as to teach him how shallow Paulina was. So of course she wasn't worried; the new 'apple of his eye' was more vindictive than Valerie and more one-dimensional than a line. She even beat out Paulina in that department, and that was something Sam didn't say lightly. In fact, if there hadn't been a bit of a lead-in, she would've suspected another love spell or something. As it was, she was convinced that it was the novelty of it all, and that it would soon wear off.

When Ember had shown up, freshly dumped by Skulker, halfway through their sophomore year, they were all expecting her to go on a rampage like she usually did. It happened about once a month, after all. One could only wonder. When she proceeded to take two lousy swings at Danny before breaking down the second he caught her wrist, pouring her ghostly heart out to him, it was a nice change of pace. When Danny actually bothered to listen, it was something of a shock to all four of them. After all, the girl was a crying nervous wreck, and that left her wide open to be sucked into the Fenton Thermos. Danny, it was apparent then, had done a little growing up since the early days of freshman year when all ghosts were merely eating up his precious time.

It turned out that Ember had pushed a little further than Skulker was willing to go. She was fine with the strange little bromance that he had with Technus, but the new development of his being inside the suit was making Ember feel threatened. In the end, Skulker decided that the tactical advantage afforded by his partnership was more important than romance with his insecure girlfriend.

From there, things had somehow segued into Ember's actual life. She had only died in the sixties, and it was one of the reasons that she claimed she would never truly be able to relate to her ex. Where he was a middle-class hunter from the early 1900's with a penchant for science fiction novels, she had grown up on hippie music and early rock-and-roll. An orphan from birth, it was the only constant in her life as she was shuffled from one decrepit orphanage to another. She'd died of pneumonia at seventeen in a hospital all on her lonesome; he was taken by surprise by some large animal on a hunt, having seen it all the way into his fifties.

Against all odds, Danny had suggested they go inside to get out of the cold, ducking into a little coffee shop no one under thirty ever went into, hoping for some privacy. It was obvious he would've rather gone alone with Ember to work things out, but Sam was too sure that she was going to pull something to allow it. Danny begrudgingly agreed with her logic, but even she wasn't really surprised when all the ghost rocker had up her sleeve was a sob story. Sam had to admit that it explained her past actions, but they were by no means forgiven. At least as far as the goth was concerned.

The full story was one of a single mother who allegedly died during childbirth. At least that's what she had been told; no one was ever really straightforward with her about it. It was likely no one even knew. She was passionate about the movement against the war, but being as sickly of a child as she was, she was rarely permitted to go. Her only friend was her guitar, and she was usually more interested in spending time with the bands on radios and TV sets than anyone who was available to talk to. Back and forth from various hospitals to various orphanages, she had lacked both stability and even the simple luxury of someone around who consistently knew her name. She'd never really been loved, so when Skulker started to pay attention to her, albeit in a somewhat predatory way, she jumped on the bandwagon. It came from the same mindset as the army of teenagers she'd attempted to construct in the past; a twisted version of a childhood dream that made her feel like the center of the world for the moment. The breakup had brought her a surprising amount of clarity.

After the confession, Danny somehow managed to find some nonexistent free time in his schedule to spend with her. The usual outings with Sam and Tucker suffered a bit as a result, but it wasn't too long before Sam begrudgingly admitted that another ally was always a good thing and that it wouldn't be the end of the world if she hung out with them. The admission was brought on mostly by the fact that she missed her best friend, but once Ember had started to hang out with them, her old confidence somewhat restored, she found that it was nice to have a female friend who was actually on the same level as her.

Even before having to keep multiple secrets about not only Danny's life, but what was her own by extension, she'd always been on a different wavelength than all of the vain, prissy, popularity-obsessed girls. Ember presented a girl to talk about ghosts with, a better running partner than Tucker or even Danny, and an equally empowered girl in general. She had, if only in spirit (which was all that was left of her, so it worked out in the end), been a hippie protester once.

She clicked well in the group. She was a co-conspirator to Sam, an ally and general friend to Danny, and even Tucker managed to get along well with her. She put up with his jokes, and he eventually stopped hitting on her, and when those conditions were met, he was surprisingly easy to get along with.

It took Sam a while, even after Danny and the ghost started spending increasing amounts of time together, to figure out what was really going on. Ember was trying to sneak past his defenses. One day over the summer, the pair seemed to slip up and shared a casual goodbye kiss in front of the other two members of the now-quartet. Tucker didn't seem at all surprised, but Sam was outraged. Interrogation followed, and Danny admitted to seeing her from the beginning of the summer. Sam, in her anger, eventually pushed too far. Danny grew defensive and stormed off.

When she walked in on them later making out blatantly in a booth in the Nasty Burger, she didn't think for a second that it was an accident.

After a long-winded rant to a surprisingly patient Tucker and a round with her rarely-used punching bag, she realized that she was being silly. It was probably just a summer fling. Anything more serious than that, and he would've told her. He'd never really had a steady girlfriend before, and that coupled with the other novelties of the relationship made it a shiny bauble to a short-sighted, hormonal teenaged boy.

That night, she called his home, expecting to get the answering machine for some reason. At the very most, his mother. When he picked up himself, she was more than mildly surprised.

"Yeah? Fentons."

Sam fumbled for a minute, not entirely sure what to say. "Um… hey, Danny. It's Sam. I wanted to apologize. I just…" _What am I supposed to say? I'm a little jealous because I'm more than a little in love with you?_ "I'm a bit bitter, I guess. We're best friends, and I didn't think you'd keep something so big from me."

"No, you're right. I shouldn't have kept it from you for so long. I just… I don't know; I guess I was afraid of what you'd think." She could practically hear him running his hand through his hair.

"What I'd think?"

"Yeah… I mean, you always hated Paulina, and you didn't really approve of Valerie, either. Even when I had a crush on Star in middle school before she was popular, you never thought she was good enough. You've just been a little… protective in the past. I was just kinda afraid that you'd turn against Ember before you even gave her a chance."

Just because he was right did _not_ mean that he got to withhold information like this from her. "Danny, Ember's my friend too. You really think that I'm going to turn on the one girl in this town who bothers to put up with me?"

Danny let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sam. You have no idea what that means to me. If she meets your standards, then she's gotta be a keeper."

They made small talk for a while longer before Sam complained of being tired and hung up the phone. She lay in bed awake for a long time before she could get to sleep. There was this sinking feeling in her stomach that she had done something horribly, horribly wrong.

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

Senior year, Tucker managed to pull a date with Valerie through just the right blend of newfound maturity and childish pestering. Sam was being rebellious and going solo. And, by some strange whim of nature, Danny and Ember were still together. As they neared their two-year anniversary, they got even more disgusting than normal. She'd developed the annoying tendency of sitting on his lap whenever possible, the pair shared inside jokes that even Sam didn't know (and some that Ember herself shouldn't know, seeing how they originally belonged to the halfa and herself), and kissing in public was not nearly so taboo as it should be. She shuddered to think of what they did in private, though it was a train of thought she generally tried to avoid.

The paperwork to allow her to come was a headache, but the pair were sickeningly happy about it. In fact, Danny seemed to be looking forward to it more than graduation. Meanwhile, Sam was still convinced that things were going to fall apart between the high school sweethearts after Danny's high school days were over.

She'd come to understand the pair's dynamics, after a while. At first, she'd assumed that Ember craved attention and that Danny was the only one patient enough to give it to her. After all, Danny was a genuinely nice guy. But, after careful observations and many, many 'girl talks' (somehow, she couldn't ever bring herself to hold it against Ember as a person; she was still a much better friend than Sam ever could've imagined), she had finally pieced it together. Ember didn't just want attention, she wanted a guy who cared about her. She wanted someone who she wouldn't have to cling to like she had with Skulker, because they _wanted_ to be with her. Though Sam never let herself think the word, she wanted to be loved and to feel the bliss of loving back. Danny wanted someone he could be completely open with; someone who would be there for him at his worst and not pity him, but slap some sense into him. He wanted someone who would be his friend; who he genuinely wanted to be with as a person, not just a girlfriend. And, though she didn't think he realized it, he wanted someone that wouldn't just put up with his incurable geekiness, but who would smile at him for it. Ember was far from perfect, especially in the last category, but she fit well enough for a high school Danny.

It definitely wasn't prejudice made Sam sure she was a better fit.

Sam wound up watching most of the dance from the sidelines, realizing a bit belatedly that there really wasn't much purpose to dancing by one's self. Tucker pitied her with a dance or two, but, Valerie's feelings in mind, Sam made sure that he didn't neglect his date. On the sidelines, trying not to completely pig out on the food, her eyes wouldn't manage to stay away from her best friends dancing together. They seemed closed off in their own little world, eyes locked in an unearthly gaze. They matched without matching, even their natural bodies fitting surprisingly well together, so long as Ember kept her wedges on. (Which was a miracle, since Sam had to wrestle with her for hours to get her to even buy tall shoes that weren't platforms. She could only imagine the ghost girl fancied the height it put her at in comparison to Danny, who had gained a considerable amount of his father's vertical stature.) She felt intrusive, but at the same time she felt like she had every right. How dare her alleged best friends be so lovey-dovey with each other that neither could realize that she was genuinely in love with the halfa?

Once even Valerie started to pity her, she decided that it was time to leave the dance early. Tucker only tried to tell her to stay once before acknowledging her train of thought and practically giving his blessing.

She made it through the night by convincing herself that most high school sweethearts broke up after high school. Eventually, she even got some sleep. The morning found her surprisingly refreshed, even if she was only forcing herself to be so for the lunch she'd had planned with Ember.

It was only when, the day after their anniversary three weeks later, Ember greeted her by squealing and immediately showing off a gleaming ring with some odd stone the color of peridot that she realized that maybe it was a little more than a phase.

* * *

A/N: Ha, you thought you were going to get off without an A/N, didn't you? I've decided, because it's quite likely that I will try to start some of my oneshots off ambiguously, that it makes more sense for me to put the A/N at the bottom. That, and I think people are more likely to read them when they don't fear spoilers. This particular one was, in case you couldn't tell somehow, DannyxEmber.

I've written several of these that I'll be updating in the next couple days, as I sorta... overloaded on angst with all the work on TMTC. And I'm obsessing over the last chapter. So it may be a while.

This wasn't supposed to be so much about Sam's insecurity or whatever; I swear. It was supposed to be an interesting angle on the relationship, so that I could use the last and first lines; those were the inspiration for the whole thing. Then again, it also wasn't supposed to be nearly four pages long. It really shouldn't be any surprise to me anymore. My stories never do what I want them to. Ah, well. I still think this one came out alright. I have trouble writing pure fluff for any pairings but DoctorxRose (Doctor Who)... though I think that the next chapter has some decent fluff in it.

Also, in case I didn't make it clear, this is just like a oneshot collection with a theme. Like one of those hundred theme challenges, but with pairings. The chapters don't coincide. It's also likely, like with this one, that many of them will be AU, because Phantom Planet is pretty definitively DxS. As this chapter made apparent, I don't have a problem with DxS... it's just that that's not the point.

One last thing; kittyclaw, when she did hers, had people voting for the next pairing to be done. Other than the fact that I know everyone will want DxS sooner than I plan on doing it, would there be interest in me putting up a poll? If not, it will be completely by my own whim, and the poll probably wouldn't be definitive anyways. Anyways, have a nice day. Merry writing and all that, reviews always appreciated.


	3. Private Displays of Affection

Tucker checked the clock on his PDA as he walked around from the side of the Fenton's house. Five fourty-five; even if Danny and Sam were running late, as they were wont to do, the pair were bound to be gone for their dinner date by now. Carefully raising his free hand to knock on the Fenton's front door, he waited diligently for the expected shout from the direction of the basement, followed by muffled sounds of an experiment being put on hold and, finally, feet rushing up a flight of stairs. Maddie Fenton, fully clad in her usual teal jumpsuit, answered the door in two minutes flat. While Tuck couldn't help but think-yet again-that the neighbors would definitely stop trying to pull the homeowner's association card on them if they soundproofed the house, he was still impressed by her ever-improving ability to drop an experiment and answer the door.

"Hey, Mrs. F," Tucker greeted customarily as he made a show of hefting his backpack higher up on his shoulders. "How are you today?"

"Great, honey. Jack and I were just in the middle of an experiment downstairs. I hope you're not here to see Danny; he and Sam just left on their date." Her smile, while genuine, didn't quite cover up the desire in her eyes to get back to the experiment. Tucker, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just here to pick up a textbook I lent Danny to study from; turns out I need it up after all. The online version I usually use is down, so I was just gonna run upstairs and get it."

Maddie's lips pursed together for a minute. "Do you know where it is, hon? Don't you think it would be better to wait until Danny got back?"

Tucker shook his head, surprised at how calm he was. It was only common practice by now, he supposed. "Naw. I'll find it; Danny might not be the most organized person in the world, but I know how his mind works. Besides, I need it as soon as possible. So I'll just slip upstairs and grab it. You can get back to your work, Mrs. Fenton."

After considering the boy a moment more, she let it slide and nodded him upstairs. "All right. Go grab your book. I'll be in the basement if you need any help."

With that, they went their separate ways. Maddie back to the basement to return to her husband and their test tubes of ectoplasm, and Tucker upstairs towards the teenagers' bedrooms. Danny's room was at the end of the hall, but, with a last glance over his shoulders, he made a turn into the room on the left side of the hallway. The door was open, but he shut it behind him. His heart was pounding just a little, calm demeanor not nearly impenetrable yet. Letting his backpack slide off of his shoulders to the floor and slipping his PDA into his pocket, he eventually turned to look at the bed. Jazz sat, cross-legged, just closing a thick tome. "You and your books," he said endearingly as he crossed the room.

Jazz gave a clearly sarcastic roll of the eyes. "You and your PDAs."

"Oh, you know you love them," Tucker replied as he sat down, taking her hand in his and leaning over to quickly peck at her lips.

"Mmm… much more fond of this kind, really." The muttering was almost lost as she returned the favor. "Just a different means to an end."

"And what end might that be?" The suggestive retort was murmured with a content smirk, which lasted even as Jazz used her free arm to shove him off. Their hands, regardless stayed interlocked.

"That line of logic was a bit flawed to begin with. Our displays of affection aren't exactly public… even the dates we've been on were planned so that no one we knew would see us." Jazz combed her fingers quickly through her hair, already expecting Tucker's reply.

"Jazz, we've talked about this a few dozen times already. Danny would kill us if he knew… mainly me, but that's not to say you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire a little."

"We're gonna have to tell him eventually…" Jazz trailed off, finding that leaning her head onto his shoulder was a much more effective way of making her point.

"Yeah, eventually… let's just enjoy what we've got for now, okay?"

He tried to lean down to nuzzle her neck, but Jazz wasn't letting the subject drop so easily. It was something that had been stewing in her head for too long now. "Maybe we could start dropping hints? You know, ease him into it or… something?"

Tucker sighed, shifting away from Jazz a little. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face so that she had to look at him. "Do you want to tell him?" he asked gently?

Jazz attempted to avoid his gaze for a moment before realizing that it was futile. Looking straight into his caring eyes, she had no choice but to be honest. "Yes. It doesn't have to be today, but… yes. I don't want to have to hide who I'm dating from the world. I'm sick of worrying in the back of my mind that you're ashamed of me, and I know enough about psychology to know that it's not going to go away until we've gone public. I don't think we're ready quite yet, but…"

Tucker leaned in and kissed her again, effectively silencing her worries. For a few moments, she allowed rationality to flee her. Until he pulled away, it was just her and Tucker.

"Sam," he whispered once they parted. Though it sounded more like a statement than some hazy, pleasure-induced truth, Jazz couldn't help but feel the aforementioned insecurities flare up.

"What?" She nearly shouted, trying not to be too loud.

Tucker laughed for a second, smoothing one hand down Jazz's hair. "We'll tell Sam first. She'll stick by us, trust me. And if she's on our side, Danny will come around eventually."

Jazz sighed in relief, an involuntary smile spreading across her face. "You're the best. I don't know how you put up with me."

"Well, you put up with me, so I figure it's the least I could do."

"You seem inclined to do more than that." She leaned a little closer, making it quite clear that the talking part of the visit was drawing to a close.

"I guess I'm just a little overachiever."

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

Once Maddie was done down in the lab, she had set to work making dinner of her own, keeping a close eye on the clock. When she was done cooking at seven, she decided that it had been long enough. Sam and Danny could be home any time, after all.

"Tucker?" She called upstairs as four plates of food were set out on the table, "Are you sure you're okay finding the book?"

It took a minute for the boy to respond. She was rather impressed by how normal he managed to sound. "Yeah, Mrs. F! I found it. Just realized that Danny might need it, so I went on ahead and did my homework here."

"Okay," she called somewhat more quietly as she reached the bottom of the stairs, "Let Jazz know dinner is ready. You're welcome to stay too, if you'd like."

"Okay!" Two voiced called down in unison. She already knew that he'd be staying. It had happened enough that she knew the routine.

In fact, they were lucky she had their back. Danny and Sam would have walked in on them at least twice by now if she hadn't been keeping watch. In fact, if she didn't already get mother's day presents from the boy, she probably would have confronted them about it by now. That and the fact that Jazz had always kept to herself and her books quite a bit, and she didn't want to scare her daughter away from a relationship with such a nice boy.

Sitting down in front of her plate of pasta beside Jack-the dish carefully chosen so that she could make it free of ghost residue-she smiled as the pair came down the stairs separately, at carefully staggered intervals.

It also helped that it was just so cute to watch them hold hands underneath the table.

* * *

A/N: There. That's fairly fluffy, I think. JazzxTucker, one of the more traditional pairings. When I first got into the fandom, I was a bit unsure about this pairing, but somehow I've come to like them quite a bit without my really realizing. Not just because of this, but everything I write, they want to creep in. When it gets down to it... they're just so cute together. X3

Also, in case you haven't realized, I'm not editing these as heavily as I do my more serious stories. They're more for blowing off some steam when I can't write more serious stuff. I have one more already written after this, and beyond that, I'm looking at maybe something with Sam? After the cameos she's made so far, I think she could use a little love. I'm leaning towards maybe DanxSam, if I find the time to rewatch UE. Otherwise, I'm open to suggestions...

And I figure this is as good a time as any to mention something else, since the note is fairly short compared to the other two. I already did a PhantomxValerie. But I also, at some point, might to a FentonxValerie. For all of the half-ghosts, in relationships where it would make a difference, I have both listed as options. For the most part. I wanted to say this right off the bat, but the first A/N was way too long.

Reviews are always appreciated, and I'm still open to _suggestions_.


	4. Rememberance

Ember Mclain.

Most everyone had forgotten. It had been a lot of time, and with the rapidly changing trends in music, nobody was honestly surprised when the one-hit wonder dropped off the face of the earth. Sure, every once in a while they would have a week where everyone got tired of the over-played "new" music and the radio would start to play it again for a day or two, and some people would dig the T-shirts out of the shadowy depths of their drawers when there was nothing else to wear, but she'd been mostly forgotten about.

Was it strange that the song seemed perpetually stuck in his head? The one song, from years ago? He had, of course, been her hands-down biggest fan, so it didn't really surprise him when he was the last to still remember her name. There was a point when so much as saying the string of syllables would perk up every ear in the vicinity, but as time wore on, all it ever really got was strange looks. Maybe vague realization after everyone screwed their faces up for a second, like remembering some kid you'd had one class with in middle school. She about as unremarkable to them, it would seem. That one chick who'd written that one song in their freshman year that they'd all gone crazy over. That was how they remembered her, not as the spirited rocker she'd been.

She'd never so much as released another single. He would know; he checked. Often. Instead, she withered away into obscurity without so much as a whimper. As far as he knew, the only place her name and music were still preserved together was in his closet. For, buried beyond even his most secret of secrets, the room full of stuffed animals, was the door that had once been a gateway to his closet. Now, it was something more akin to a shrine.

A picture, carefully matted and framed in a star shape befitting her stature, was the center, surrounded by long-dead flowers (he replaced them every so often, but blue roses were a bit of a rarity, even in Amity, and he could hardly be seen buying flowers) and some fairly expensive speakers. They had her one song hooked up to play, and while he didn't play it very often, he still enjoyed the bouncy, catchy strains long after most would've gotten sick of them.

The walls had the t-shirts pinned to them (every one that had ever been printed, to his knowledge, as there are only so many different designs that can be run in little more than a single week), as well as two posters. There were three more rolled up in the corner, because there wasn't any space for them on the walls.

Various do-dads were cluttered around the picture and the roses on the shelf, including the concert ticket stubs from him and just about anyone else who hadn't wanted them.

It was something often in the back of his mind. During a test; while Paulina prattled on about the color of her nails; in the heat of a game when he needed that extra burst of motivation. Only on his lowest days and most sleepless nights did he actually give her his full attention span. It was a lot more than most people thought, really. He just had more important things to be thinking about than school, and even conversation.

He felt guilty about it, when he let the music drown him and thought it over for a while. He, Ember's only real remaining fan, if not the only one who remembered her at all, was starting to drift. Of course, it was only normal, but it made him sad. The opposite of what she'd always wanted, perhaps even the opposite of the effect she'd hoped her disappearing act would have. If he were someone else, he would've called that irony. As it was, all he knew it by was the clenching feeling in his stomach that made him want to crinkle his nose, something like bad alcohol or the few comments disgusting enough to faze him.

But his life would move on regardless. The music always had to be turned off sometime. It would retreat to the back of his mind, like it was supposed to, taking up space right between his football practice schedule and the withering wisp of a conscience he still had. It took up much more room than either, but it wouldn't garner much attention.

The Nasty Burger, as everyone knew, had stopped being a cool hangout midway through freshman year. Only losers still went there, and only complete Fenturds still ate it. He would pop in every now and again, when he really wanted to mess with Fentina, but he always made it clear that that was his only intent. If he picked up some fries while he was there, it was only to amuse the cashier.

Today wasn't one of those days. As usual, most of the A-list (except Valerie, who might have been technically back in their ranks, but still had a job and, as such, rarely hung out with them after school) was headed to the Bowling Ball Pizzeria, which actually had nothing to do with bowling alleys once you got inside. Leaving everyone at the table and double-checking that no one had suddenly changed their mind on the usual pies, he walked up to the front counter to relay the order. He would've gotten Kwan to do it, but the boy didn't ever seem to have the attention span required to do all of the girls' complex ordering. Truth be told, he barely did himself.

"I'd like one large pizza that's half Pepperoni and half cheese, then another that's got mushrooms on all but two slices, green peppers on half of those and one of the others, ham on the other mushroom-less piece, pineapple on all the pieces with mushrooms and peppers, and extra cheese on the whole thing." Letting out the small remainder of his breath, he shook his head out. It had taken a few weeks to get the hang of ordering it, and even longer for them to get the hang of making it, but now it was only a matter of the rare few days when the girls decided they were on a new diet that kept the bakers from starting as soon as they walked in.

"Fine," a new voice snapped, dripping with irritation and sarcasm, "One regular pizza and one for the Queen herself. Anything else?" Dash blinked, surprised. He hadn't yet bothered to actually look in the direction of the cashier, but that was because he'd thought he knew what he'd see. Apparently, however, there was a new employee. His eyes going wide as he realized the voice wasn't entirely unfamiliar, he slowly turned to look at the snappish girl that looked immensely out of place in the pizzeria uniform.

"Ember Mclain?" He asked in awe.

It was Ember's turn to blink. "You… know my name?" She asked warily in return, all talk of pizza happily forgotten. She leaned in just a little, as if to see him better, and Dash was fairly sure he nearly fainted of the surreal surprise.

"Yeah, of course. I'm… I'm your biggest fan. What're you doing here?"

Ember snorted sardonically, looking to the slightly disgusting ceiling as if cursing some higher power. "Turns out being a washed up rock star doesn't pay well. Needed to do something with my time, anyways." She paused, appraising the jock before her. In the back of his mind, he almost hoped that maybe she'd recognize him, but if he in particular even had a spot in her memory, it wasn't tugging any strings. "So… biggest fan, huh? If I'm a washout, just what does that make you?"

Dash almost smiled, but found that he couldn't quite manage. His head was a jumble of emotions and not-quite thoughts, making it nearly impossible to form any normal response. "Don't know. Someone that found a hidden gem, maybe?"

Ember appraised him a moment more before finally inclining her head in something that was almost like approval. "Alright, kid. What's your name?"

"Dash," he said after a moment, unsure why such a simple question suddenly seemed so important. "Dash Baxter."

It was a name she didn't soon forget.

* * *

A/N: DashxEmber. Another more abstract one... this was actually the second one I wrote, and it also means that I've reached the end of my original stockpile. Not a very big one, I know. This chapter... I'm not particularly fond of it, really. I don't know why, but there's something off about it that refuses to be fixed. Ah well, I hope everyone else enjoys it. I'm probably just being paranoid. It's late; I should sleep.

By the way, I've been getting a lot of comments about this, so I don't think I've made it clear enough; each chapter is a oneshot. No correlation. There is no possible way I could manage to fit several hundred pairings into a single, sane story. Especially with the number of characters I'm working with. They take place in different storylines, a good ninety-five percent AU.

I'm already writing the next one, but I still need to edit it. It's actually (SPOILER!) a canon pairing, but it's one that I kinda hated when I saw the episode. Still do, but I'm trying to portray it in a better light. I can almost understand why now, but I think I have to make it a little less bitter. Guess what pairing it is and... and you get to pick which one I do after it. If anyone's interested. *shrug*


	5. Almost

A/N: Since it says it at the beginning and I have something to add as a prelude, I'm putting this up here for today. GregorxSam/ElliotxSam... whatever you want to call him. Since he was known as Gregor for most of the episode, that's what I usually call him. Anyways, this one is short, like the relationship, but I think I'm fairly happy with what I did, considering (as I said last chapter) that the episode this was in made me sick. Could Danny be any more of a jerk? Anyways, this is actually set in canon, about the episode _Double Cross My Heart_.

I'm surprised no one guessed this from the clues I gave; I thought I was saying too much. Instead, of the three guesses there were, two were some of my favorites. XD As such, I can still control the next pairing; mua-ha-ha-ha-ha. Oh, and since I've been getting some requests; I'll only be doing each pairing once. I know I said something a while back about doing two for some of the halfas, but that's only where their secret isn't known and the different relationships are significantly different. DannyxValerie is one of those. DannyxEmber is not.

Also, since I know I have several followers on this story who aren't very heavily into the Phandom, a quick summary of the episode this is based off of, since it won't make much sense without it:

A new kid, 'eurogoth' (as in goth from Europe, apparently, choosing to wear all white instead of all black) Gregor moves to Amity Park and winds up asking Sam out. They go on a few dates, Sam thinking that she's found a great catch, but Danny is madly jealous and, as such, is grasping at straws for a reason to hate him. All of his specific suspicions are proved untrue, of course, but it turns out that 'Gregor' is actually just some womanizing kid from... Ohio or something that, who pretends to be different personas to get hot girls to go out with him. His real name is Elliot. And I hate both him and the episode with a burning passion, but I think I did the pairing alright here. I suppose I took a few liberties, but I refuse to re-watch the episode. So here it is. ^^

Sorry about the long A/N; I had a lot to say. Enjoy the disproportionally short story anyways.

* * *

Gregor… a short, short chapter in Sam's life, but one that, maybe, made more difference than she realized. She'd never had a boyfriend before. Everyone except for Danny and Tucker had always ostracized her, Tucker himself was a meathead, and Danny… well, that was complicated. It always was.

It was weird to meet another goth… eurogoth, whatever. Black or white, it didn't matter. For the most haunted town in America, Amity Park didn't seem to attract many spooky types. At least not in her age group. She hung out with the college-aged goths and activists at the coffee shops and dreary bookstores and usually got along with them fairly well, but the ones that were in high school were usually just posers or one-dimensional sob-stories.

When she met Gregor, things were simple. She didn't understand him, but he made it obvious how he felt. She liked that. The thrill of mystery without the confusion and irritation of having to figure everything out before they could progress. He liked her, and she thought that maybe she could like him, so she gave it a shot.

They joked around, at the expense of posers and carnivores, any copious amounts of pink they happened to pass by, and-once-Danny. The jab at her best friend didn't make her teeth clench up like it normally would have, and that worried her a little, but she was mostly too caught up in the spotlight that was Gregor to care. He was his own person, blindingly so, and somehow he still found it in him to focus all of his attention exclusively on her. Even for someone as used to attention and sure of herself as Sam, Gregor's attention was different. It gave her a bit of a rush. Somehow, he even got her to try on white in one of the stores. It didn't look good with her complexion, so she wound up buying the same item in her usual black, but the fact that he'd been able to get through to her so quickly said something. Probably the most significant, however, was the method he'd used: laughter, jokes, flattery, and some heady undertone to his voice that made comforting promises. Not a single harsh word or anything physical beyond the hand on her arm. It had been done of her own will, under some unknowable influence.

By the end of the night, she didn't know what to think. He wasn't what she normally attributed as gothic, but she didn't particularly care. Her own style had come mostly because it was everything that her parents hated, not because of any particular existing mold. It made it a little easier to buy clothes, fitting (if awkwardly) into a label, but his whole white-is-the-new-black thing… she could get behind it, even if she didn't plan on jumping on the bandwagon. He was something different, not quite goth, and definitely not Danny, but she was fairly sure she'd had a good time, and maybe neither of those qualifiers mattered as much as she'd have thought.

It was just too much, though. When he kissed her, she still couldn't yet shake the feeling of being a deer in the headlights… of something being off, as much as she wanted to prove Danny wrong. As much as she wanted to believe that Gregor really could be true, the Danny-shaped devil's advocate refused to stop his nay saying, and he wouldn't until she could work it through in her head. She let him down gently that night, and went home to think. Maybe her thoughts would've come out a little straighter if Danny hadn't gotten in the way again.

So maybe he was right, in the end. Maybe Gregor was too good to be true. Maybe she needed to stop getting her hopes up because no guy was really willing to fight for her.

But Gregor… Elliot, whatever. He'd taken interest in her. Genuine interest, even if he felt the need to present himself to her as something artificial. Even if he wasn't really the goth she'd found herself crushing on, just Elliot the player, he'd still made her laugh; still given her the full force of his attention that managed to jumble up her thoughts and set her stomach alight.

The ordeal, in the quietness of her own private thoughts, wasn't a complete waste. Gregor had been, in short, her dream guy. No matter how things had ended, her first date had been with Gregor, the man literally made just for her. Elliot, on the other hand, had best watch his back. Because the next time she saw him, she had a little something planned to return the favor. 'Knuckle sandwich' would be putting it lightly.


	6. Facebook Official

He stared at the screen, wondering. It would be a stupid move; there was no doubt of that. Even if Sam didn't check her Facebook every night, Tucker was an obsessive user of all things electronic, so it would either become common knowledge or blackmail. And that was assuming everyone else didn't tell her first.

People had done things like it before; he'd seen them. April Fool's break-ups had occasionally led to real break-ups because both parties weren't on entirely the same page. But this was a completely separate idea, when he got to thinking about it. Fake break-ups over Facebook made good (if dangerous) pranks. Fake hook-ups in real life were good get-out-of-jail-free cards, as he'd discovered. But this… if he was caught, what kind of explanation would he give? Curiosity? He'd be one dead cat.

But he was getting seriously sick of all the dumb talk of betting pools; now that he'd heard of it once, it seemed a miracle that he hadn't caught wind of it sooner. It had to be the most poorly-concealed secret in all of Casper High's history. It would certainly catch attention (and, if the money actually passed hands from the stunt, it would go to Valerie at the moment, which was a plus), and maybe he could manage to dissuade them… or at least get them to stop talking about it in front of him.

Just for half an hour, he decided. That should be safe. He could convince Sam he'd pressed the wrong button, or that Tucker had messed with his page, and he could hopefully get everyone else off of his case. Before he lost his nerve, the pointer hovered over the button that would make his change official… well, Facebook official. Hesitating only a second, he clicked it and waited for it to process. Before the page was even completely done loading, he heard an adamant "Whadd'ya mean this isn't _sneaking?_" from just outside his bedroom window. Rushing over, leaving the wheelie chair spinning on its axis, he found Youngblood in an argument with his very ornamentally dressed parrot, newly garbed himself. In… a ninja suit?

Sighing, Danny let the chill of his ghostly power rush through him and phased through the window. "Alright, brat… what are you up to this time?"

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

Danny was falling asleep on his feet as he fetched his books out of his locker, even the small motion making every sore muscle in his body scream in protest. It had been a long night. Halfway through chasing Youngblood, he'd realized that he was covering for some new, obnoxious ghostly friend of his, and it had been nearly midnight before he slunk home, exhausted, and cobbled together some lame excuse for homework. Only when he finally collapsed on his bed, ready for sleep, did his thoughts wander back to Facebook. It had been an interesting night trying to convince all the night-owls that he was making a point about the bet, even after he switched his relationship status back to 'single.'

The combination of unlikely events had left him exhausted, and he was more than ready to slam the door in the world's face and crawl back into some hole to sleep. When he finally closed his locker (having had no friendly cover to get his books the easy way) to see Sam standing in his newly cleared line of sight, he was expecting the worst.

"Late night again, Mr. I-can-do-it-on-my-own?" Came her world-ending wrath, demanding an answer and ready to chop of his head for even thinking of pulling such a stunt, and… wait. No, that was decidedly casual. When his slightly sluggish mind actually managed to catch up enough to process the words, the comment registered as much too naturally Sam to be anything but genuine. Relaxing a bit but trying his hardest not to give a sigh of relief, he turned to face his best friend of the female persuasion.

"Well, it _started out_ as no big deal… Youngblood was outside my window, failing at playing ninja. It just… got bigger."

Sam raised a knowing eyebrow and looked at him evenly, vague worry sparkling way back in the depths of her eyes where she didn't think the rest of the world could see it. Danny couldn't, at least, and that was good enough for her, because her voice was even, somewhere between aloof and curious, as she asked, "How much bigger?"

Danny scratched the back of his neck out of habit, even if it hurt his sort muscles a bit much. "No more than a three on the Richter's scale."

Though he wouldn't have been able to place the tension a moment ago, Danny could still feel the miniscule change when Sam relaxed. "Ah. Let's see… that means no chance of city-wide destruction, yeah?"

"No chance of city-wide destruction, but normal property damage nearly unavoidable." He nodded when Sam mirrored the grimace on his face.

"I'd almost feel bad for homeowners, if it wasn't for that 'ghost insurance' people started taking out a couple months ago."

"Yeah, I feel more sorry for the insurance agencies."

"Even if they don't have souls?"

"Even if they don't have souls."

The conversation continued for several more minutes, Sam asking about homework he could hardly remember doing and tests that he wasn't ready for while Danny tried to keep up with the complexities of the schedule he knew he should know. It would've eventually descended back into the trivial (and not very much later, at the rate that Danny's concentration was slipping), but the bell cut them off.

The smile Danny gave was still almost a grimace, though it was surprisingly good-humored for so early in the morning after so little sleep. "Off to Lancer's so you can take my notes for me?" While it was technically a question, it was much closer to a confirmation than the plea it should've been.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head a little, Sam replied, "Sorry, not today. I'm getting out of class for the art field trip. You're on your own unless you can manage to get Tucker to take notes that are comprehensible to the rest of us." Danny groaned, obviously trying for a weary version of the guilt trip, but Sam just shrugged. "Can't do anything about it now. You should've asked for my help last night, before it was too late. See you at lunch."

Danny, still slumped against his locker, merely mumbled a pitiful goodbye, dreading having to walk into Lancer's class to face his perfect-for-sleep lecture drone.

As Sam brushed by him, she leaned up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before continuing on, leaving the halfa dumbfounded for a moment, suddenly awake, before he whirled around to look at her retreating back. "What… huh… buh… What was that for?"

"Well," Sam called over her shoulder, "Facebook says we're dating, so I figure; who am I to argue?" After a moment in shock, Danny brought his hand up to the freshly-kissed cheek, disbelieving, before a goofy, somewhat incoherent grin spread across his face.

Around the corner, Valerie turned smugly to face a very irate Tucker. "I told you it was for real. Now pay up."

Grumbling, the techno-geek dug several bills out of his pocket. "Shoulda known better… those two _better_ be happy, with all the early start cost me…"

* * *

A/N: DannyxSam... Forgive me! *cowers* I don't even have a Facebook, so this is probably all wrong, but I've been following a few good facebook fics (yes, I'm just as shocked by their existance as you are) that've made me kinda want to write my own... but it's not like I'm going to break the ToS just for some silly little demented plot bunny I probably can't write. So... this.

Again, I'm sorry. I didn't want to do anyting over-the-top for a pairing that I KNOW I can write, and... this happened. Though I suppose it is fluffier than some of the other stuff I've written for this challenge. But yeah. I have two more in the works after this one, but both are very hard to write. Still, I think they should be good once they come out. There are two others that I have yet to start, however, that I'm planning next; one focuses on some of the adults, the other is one with the teens. If anyone can guess the latter, I think I'll uphold my whole 'you-pick-the-next-pairing' deal. Hint: It's not completely uncommon, but it's one of the only DP het pairings (that's not crack) I've read that honestly makes my skin crawl, if not the only (I feel like I said the same thing about Sam and Gregor, but that one really doesn't get under my skin the same way; it's _supposed_ to make us mad). I doubt I've said anything about it outside of one review on one story by an author that will never read it, but I could be wrong. Or someone could be a good guesser. The same offer stands if you can guess the adult-centric one, but I doubt anyone will. It's... out there.

And yes, that is indeed a reference to Cordria's Star Shot 75 in there. A cookie for anyone who caught it.


	7. Middleman

He was getting a little sick of it, really. Watching Danny and Sam, intertwined in their careful, complicated dance of never-quite-touching. To someone like Jazz, it was probably a thing of fascination; worthy of writing papers on. But he wasn't a psychologist; he was Tucker Foley, the techno-geek, and he was rather impatient. He was getting sick of watching the stolen glances when each thought the other wasn't looking; tired of having to be the buffer whenever one or the other found some temporary romantic sidebar. Tired of pretending that maybe the new one had a chance of lasting.

While he managed to swallow his irritation most days to be a good friend, there were some, like this one, that he just couldn't take it. Danny had left nearly an hour ago, at the beginning of English, to take care of some ghost threat. It should have been routine, but all of English class had ticked by, morphing into lunch, and they still hadn't heard back. Sam sat across from him, more than a little bit mopey, and poked uninterestedly at her vegetables. Despite Tucker's varied attempts to keep her mind off of things, she was obviously focused solely on what may be happening to Danny. Honestly, Tuck would have been worried himself if he could afford to.

It was when Danny finally trudged in, however, headed straight for the cafeteria line without any wavering, that something really flared up inside of him. Most likely, it was the longing way that Sam stared at their best friend's back, a little bit hollow in the moment before the worry transitioned to relief.

"Sam, we need to get you a fake-out boyfriend," he proclaimed, making sure that only they could hear, before he really thought through his proposition.

"What?" Sam was suddenly and rudely jerked back into reality.

"I'm sick of you two being so angsty all the time; there's too much pent up hormonal fury. Danny's never going to make a move at this rate, but I know he's not immune to jealousy."

Danny came a few seconds later, exhaustedly plopping his tray down and then following suit, more than a little mush slopping its way onto the table. Depending upon your views on cafeteria food, it might have been jumping for freedom. One way or another, Danny's noisy and dramatic arrival put an end to their line of conversation. Still, the seeds were planted in Sam's head, and they continued to grow until the weekend came and she could take it no longer.

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

"You're right." Tucker was greeted with the two sweet words the instant he picked up his phone, only made sweeter by the fact that it was Sam's voice delivering them; his gothic best friend hardly ever admitted her own wrong.

"Well, it's always nice to hear, but what exactly about this time?"

"Danny's not going to make a move on his own, and I want to know if he's ever going to. I need to make him jealous."

Her bluntness caught Tucker off guard; the thought must have been stewing in her head for a while. But, once he recovered, he was glad to see her finally stepping up to the plate with her more-than-crush the way she did everything else.

"Well, that's great, but why are you telling me?"

"I… I don't know who would be a good candidate."

Tucker thought for a moment, coming up blank with anyone believable who would agree to the proposition… before a new thought took hold in his head. If he played his cards right, the point could hit closer to home than he'd originally thought… "I'd do it… if you're serious about things."

There was a long, more than slightly awkward silence. "Really?" Sam asked at last, the tone not blatantly disbelieving, but more than a little skeptical, amongst other things.

"Well, yeah… I mean, I'm just as anxious as you are to get the pair of you together, and I'm pretty sure I can drive him completely up the wall in a jealous fit, being his best friend and all."

Sam paused a moment, this time more thoughtful than awkward. "Don't you think he's going to take this as a betrayal?"

"That's the point, Sam. It's supposed to shock him out of his comfort zone." Despite his words, Tucker was already having second thoughts as they made the plans for dinner Friday night-an _exclusive_ dinner.

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

Sam showed up at Tucker's at five thirty, the pair having mutually decided that their plans would go more smoothly if Tucker wasn't mauled by Sam's parents. He'd been extremely lucky the night of the homecoming dance, and Sam wasn't traditional enough to feel like she had to be picked up at her house, anyways.

They set out for the local Olive Garden on foot, after Tucker's parents insisted on talking to Sam for a few minutes. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't. They told the Foleys that they were meeting up with Danny for dinner, and then as soon as they left the door, they were on with the usual banter. Sarcastic, disagreeable battles of wit which Sam usually won but Tucker never lost. The vegan against the carnivore; the athletic and even mystical against the technological. Occasionally, the joking animosity would be redirected at another target, like Danny or one of the ghosts that was a continual thorn in their side.

Once they got to ordering, the inevitable battle over food choices broke out, never really being settled so much as ended. It was easier for the both of them to just treat it like a normal outing, and that's what it was. Only the lack of Danny and the strange smiles the waiter kept giving them were any indication otherwise.

In the end, they just needed to be seen acting a little bit couple-y and wait for the rumors to spread. After that and a few more carefully placed casual outings, the reliable web of nosy teenagers did just that.

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

He could tell exactly when the rumors reached Danny's ears. He got really spacey, a bit jumpy, and any time Sam and Tucker would start arguing, he would just stare at them instead of trying to stop it. Tucker could almost feel Danny's stares on the side of his head, the halfa trying to figure out if he had any reason to be worried. Even though it was pretty much part of the plan, it still made him feel self-conscious and a little bit guilty.

Still, life continued on. The three did almost everything they could as a trio; Tuck and Danny still hung out to play video games; Sam still helped Danny with his homework. But, the most different if only because it was the newest, Sam and Tucker were also regularly meeting to walk through the park or go out to eat. It took a while for the point to make itself known, but that was the idea; boundaries had to be set, and PDAs (or any sort of DAs, really) crossed several of them. The most they ever did-and this was after Danny was proving thoroughly oblivious, as always-was hold hands.

Danny got the message.

-S-P-A-C-E-A-N-D-T-I-M-E-G-A-P-

The famous trio was hanging out in Danny's kitchen, scavenging for food as hungry teenagers are wont to do. Upon unearthing an old bowl of chili (that was decidedly non-vegan and probably just barely on the nicer side of the expiration date), Sam cringed back towards shelter. "That is not only cruel; it's disgusting. Excuse me while I go barf."

"Careful not to mess up your nice purple lipstick, Sammy!" Tucker called as she retreated, and the lack of retaliation to the sickening nickname was probably what sent Danny over the edge.

"What exactly do you think you're _doing?_" Danny demanded.

"Eating chili," the ever-eloquent Tucker managed around a mouthful of said meaty mixture.

"I mean with Sam! You _know_ I like her; you can't pretend you don't with all the times you've mocked me about it. Where did this come from, anyway? Just trying to find the most efficient way to lodge a knife into my back?"

Tucker swallowed all of the angry retorts that came instinctively out of the half-act he'd been keeping up for several weeks, trying to keep in mind what the charade had been about in the first place. "Sam is her own person, Danny. She can date whoever she wants. That might have been you, but you never gave the slightest acknowledgment that you had feelings for her until now. If she doesn't feel like waiting on you, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"I can blame _you_! You two can't agree on anything; how could you possibly be _dating?_" Danny's eyes flashed green, which should have been the warning sign for Tucker to stop, but something had taken control of his common sense, and he was instead stepping closer to the enraged halfa.

"We're not. This was just to prove a point. If you don't make a move on Sam soon, someone else will. Hopefully we got your attention."

His words were succeeded by silence, which hung heavy in the air until the sound of returning footsteps sliced through it. Stepping back, Tucker held the gaze of his best friend as his own softened just a little. All of the anger was gone from the atmosphere, Tucker's voice much gentler. "She's not going to say no."

When Sam appeared in the doorway again, cheerfully announcing "Done barfing!", both of the boys shifted to face her.

Danny took a deep breath and, nudged on by Tucker, managed to wrestle out "Hey, Sam… can we, uh… talk?"

She raised an eyebrow at Tucker, confused by the sudden seriousness in the atmosphere. "Um, look… I was kidding about the barfing thing, y'know. I just had to go pee…"

"I know, just… come on. Just for a minute." With that, Danny led Sam into the living room, leaving Tucker to slump against the kitchen counter.

Jazz had, for the past hour, been doing homework on the kitchen table, forgotten. She'd been trying to ignore the trio's antics, since she was there first, but she couldn't just sit there when Tucker looked so dejected. The only reason she hadn't piped up earlier was because of the shock. Standing up and walking over towards him, she leaned up against the counter beside him. "It was a good thing that you did, you know? The situation was inevitable, and this way, no hearts were actually broken."

Tucker sighed, and it seemed to take all of his strength to nod. "Yeah, I know."

"Unless…" Jazz paused, unsure whether or not to continue, and finally decided that she should at least give him the opening to talk about it, "unless one was?"

He stared at the doorway the pair had left through, though he couldn't see either of them from his position. It was probably better that way. "No, I'm happy for them…" He paused, hating the way his voice trailed on, begging for a qualifier. "It's just… it's been so long since I've had a girlfriend, y'know? Even though we didn't really do much of anything other than hang out, it was nice."

Jazz didn't know what to say, so she just put one arm over his back and rubbed it in circles. Eventually, he spoke on his own. "I mean… as it is, she's always felt like a sister to me, but… I think… if things were a little different, I think that I could love her."

* * *

A/N: Okay, most of you are probably currently asking why I did another DxS piece... or, perhaps, even another TxJ. The answer: I didn't. It's (almost kinda) actually for TuckerxSam. Sorry, but this was the most I could bear to do. I'm sorry; my reasons are kinda complicated and partially just a gut feeling, but I can't stand this pairing. No offense to anyone who likes it or anything. This was originally even going to have a kiss on the cheek at the end, but it didn't write itself in quite the right direction. Maybe one of these days I'll rewrite it. I kinda just don't want to look at it now... eugh. And not just because of the pairing; it's not written well. Sorry. I promise the next one will be back to normal quality after these two crappy ones. This is out of the way, so now I can do fun stuff again.

Oh, and if anybody's wondering why this took me so long, sorry. My internet was down for a few days (but you know what makes my day? Tech Service people who actually know more about computers than I do), but it should be back now, and hopefully much more reliable in the future. On another note, just because I'm excited, my birthday's in less than a month. ^^ April 15th. Maybe I'll do something special. Or maybe not. I've got enough half-finished ideas laying around on the computer as it is. We'll see.


	8. Strictly Professional

Edward Lancer murmured appreciatively.

Things were a little crazy at the moment, but in his mind, it was a good week. Spirit week _had_ to be a good week; it was a requirement for cheerleaders, ex- or no. Even though a good ninety percent of the student population was more dreary and angsty than usual, it had to be a good week. Any room that a cheerleader was in had to be filled with spirit, even if they were the only one providing it. Since the school's current cheerleaders didn't seem to be up to the task, the job was left to him.

A welcome face strode her way into his field of vision yet again with the sharp click-clack of heels and a delicious swagger of hips. Further up, flawless skin puckered slightly into a coy smile, and he had to curb the instinct to hum again. Okay, so the spirit part of the week definitely wasn't the only reason it was a good one. Instead of his instinctual and rather uncivilized reaction, he smiled warmly and waved back at the new counselor.

So maybe she wasn't the most qualified. Her credentials were a bit lacking, and the few references she'd provided had been dubious. But, as vice-principal, he had seen fit to put in a good word for her with Dora. She was just so eager, so sly, and it was only a temporary position that needed filling. The teacher in him had seen fit to give her the chance. Just to start out; one honest-to-goodness chance.

Even now, as her presence seemed to be making things worse, the mathematician in him insisted that correlation didn't necessarily imply causation. There could have been a number of other coincidences, and he knew from experience that when kids got into a funk, it was hard to kick them out of it. Even more practiced counselors couldn't get lightning-fast results.

When she passed, a genuine smile lighting up her beautiful features, he had to admit that there was more to it than just that. While it hadn't been the thing to get her hired, the man in him would be sorry to see her lovely curves go when the week was past, even if things proved to be better after their bearer left. _Scarlet Letter_, she looked good in that suit.

* * *

A/N: Totaling 389 words, this is officially the shortest oneshot so far. Though I hope the quality makes up for it, especially after the last few have been so meh. For some reason, this came out in a style very close to BJA Fan's, who is an old DP fanfic writer that stopped around '07, I think. Probably has something to do with his hobby of making crack pairings a bit more serious.

Yes, it is indeed LancerxSpectra, and amongst other things, I blame DBack47. He was trying to get me thinking about some stranger pairings, and amongst other things, he suggested "anything with Spectra." This plagued my head for the rest of the day, took forever to actually write down, and in the end it's not even 400 words. But I still think the episode makes much more sense in this context. I generally like to believe that Lancer's not totally incompetant.

Also, when it mentions Dora, I mean Pricipal Ishiyama, not the medieval ghost. I thought, especially in his head, he would adress her by her first name, and she didn't have one. I liked the ring of it. Same goes for Edward Lancer, but I'm pretty sure I got that one from someone else. So whatever.


End file.
